Dark Clouds
by something like human
Summary: During a botched mission, Wufei learns more about Deathscythe's pilot. A semisequel to Thunder but you don't have to have read that first. slight shounenai 52, language, and adult themes.


Title: Dark Clouds

Author: Something Like Human

Feedback: somethinglikehuman1@excite.com

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.  

Rating: PG13

Warnings:  Shounen ai (5 +2), adult themes, possible OOCness, language

A/N: This should really be a warning, but I have never really watched the anime. I have read and re-read the manga. So any inconsistencies with the anime are more than likely due to that.  (The major difference being that in the manga, Wufei's colony is not destroyed – or at least never mentioned again after he leaves it. If anyone would like to point out where I missed this if it did happen, feel free!  That and 'who is Sylvia?')

Note on storyline: This is a semi-sequel to "Thunder".  You don't have to read it to understand this one but it wouldn't hurt. 

It took three weeks before I could give Maxwell back his teddy bear.  There were no words said and no ceremony; I just tossed the hideous green-brown thing at him after we got out of our gundams.  He just smiled at me and placed it in Deathscythe.  We then headed out for our mission.

Two days later we were running for our lives out of an off building in a large American city being chased by swarms of Ozzies. Ducking into an alley in the late afternoon sun, we determined that we were royally screwed.  Things did not look good; our objective to get the damn disk for the doctors took longer than expected, we were caught by soldiers, shot our way out, missed our contact to get out of the city, and were stuck with no means of leaving the city any time soon.  That, and the soldiers were still looking for us. 

"Damn."

"Swearing doesn't change the situations, Maxwell," I mutter at a loss for anything else to say or do. 

"I know," he said, "but it made me feel better."

"It still doesn't get us the hell out of here."

"You wouldn't happen to have any money in those white pants of yours?"

"No, I'm not the one with all the pockets," I snapped back at him.

"Hey, just because I have pockets doesn't mean that I have enough money in them to buy two bus tickets outta here," he argued.  "Besides, they'll probably set up road blocks looking for us."

He had a point. "So we can't leave now without getting caught, what should we do?"  I asked more to myself than to him.

Maxwell walked out to the mouth of the alley and scanned the street before he spoke.  "Since Shinigami can't run, he's gonna hide!  C'mon, 'Fei! We need to find some camouflage and a hiding place."

I did not have time to question what the hell he was talking about before I found myself being drug around the corner.  The streets were luckily flooded with teenagers hanging out, shopping, or just making their way through the city; doing what normal kids are supposed to do.  We ducked in and out of large groups to avoid being spotted by the soldiers.  After a couple of blocks however, it was getting too hard to avoid detection.  The soldiers were starting to send the kids home saying that terrorists were loose in the city.  I told Maxwell we should find a place to hide soon before we were the only kids on the streets.

"There'll always be kids on the streets," he replied cryptically.  He then turned us down a side street and then another.  We seemed to be moving away from the lights and attractions of the city – away from the crowds. 

"Maxwell, where are we going?"

"Somewhere I said I'd never go to again," he replied with a touch of regret in his voice.  That really confused me because I knew he had never been in this city before.

I did not get to ask him what he meant because four OZ soldiers spotted us and demanded that we stop where we were.  When we did not stop, they started shooting.  Maxwell turned and shot one of our pursuers before he ran out of ammunition.  I had already run out of bullets back at the building.  I am just not as good of a shot as Maxwell is; he always jokes that I do not trust one bullet to kill someone so I have to waste an entire clip in one corpse.

We then ran as fast as we could through the streets. We doubled back a few times trying to loose them.  I started to notice that the buildings looked less and less respectable. After noticing the third triple x theater on one block I started to get extremely nervous that the part of the city we were in might be more dangerous than those whom we were fleeing from.

I was jerked out of my observations when my fellow pilot grabbed my hand and yanked me into the nearest building.  The boarded-up apartment building looked like it would not take a gundam to destroy it – any slight breeze might knock it over.  Once inside, we turned and watched through the slightly ajar door as the three remaining soldiers rounded the corner and ran down the street past us. We eluded them for the moment. 

I quickly became aware that we were not alone in the condemned structure when I heard what sounded like a gasp from behind me.  I could not see much in the dim light shining through the holes in the boards over the windows.  I could just see forms moving in the shadows.  As I was waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, Maxwell spun around to see what I was looking at and his braid arched out and whipped me across the chest.  I was about to give the owner of the offending rope of hair a few choice words about watching what he did when one of the shadowy figures spoke.

"Kid… that you?"

"Who… who's … there?"  He stuttered uncharacteristically.  He at least pulled his now empty gun out to point where the voice was from and was holding it steady.  Whoever it was would not know it was empty.  "Show yourself."

Out of the recess of shadows stepped the most non-threatening thing Maxwell has ever aimed his gun at.  It was a half-starved girl probably no older than we were with a mass of copper-colored curls hanging limply around her dirty face.  Her clothes were dirtier and more tattered than anything I had ever seen before. 

"Sunny?"

"Duo! It is you!"  The filthy child flung herself at my partner and he hugged her stinking frame tightly.  I was completely taken by surprise. Not only did Maxwell seem to recognize this person but he was touching her even though she smelled like she had not even known what a bath was.  From her appearance, she looked like nothing more than a beggar.  

I stood there, uncomfortable and bewildered for a few moments before they broke apart.  The girl looked at me with sharp eyes.  For the next few heartbeats, her eyes never quit moving.  She focused on me, on Maxwell, on the others in the shadows, on the holes between the boards on the windows, back to Maxwell, and then back to me.  It reminded me of how Deathscythe's pilot acted during missions, attention never on one thing but somehow on everything at once like they were expecting a threat to appear from every corner. 

"Who's the chink?" She asked.  Her gaze drifted up and down my traditional white garment.  She looked back at Maxwell, "Get yourself pimped to a foreign corp and entertaining the exec's son while he's in the city? That how you got outta L2 – got yourself pimped?"

"Oh where are my manners?" He replied dramatically.  The with a bowing flourish he introduced us, "Sunny, this is Change Wufei.  Wufei, this is Sunshine."

"What type of name is 'sunshine'," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"The same kinda name that 'Duo' is, Mister Woo," the copper-haired girl spat.

"It's Wufei!  And what do you mean by that?" I growled back.

"The kind you have when you don't have parents to give you one or have been on your own so long you can't remember if you even had parents to give you a name," Maxwell answered sounding oddly mixed between feelings of anger and shame.

"Geez, Kid, we'd all though you were dead," the flame-haired girl started.  "Last we heard, you left on a Sweeper's ship to seek your revenge.  We all thought you were suicidal or something…  I mean how in the hell is one colony-rat who's barely twelve years old have the means to take on the entire army."  
Maxwell laughed heartily at that, his former mood seemingly forgotten.  "Easy, team up with four other colonials and get some big-ass MS's," he laughed again like it was all a joke.  "Besides, you and the rest of the gang shouldn't have worried 'bout me.  Ya can't kill Death, ya know!"

"Then if ya can't die, why were ya beating ass through the streets from them Ozzies," a male voice contested as a young boy, perhaps eleven, emerged from the refuge of shadows.  

"Blur? Boy, you've grown up!" My overly excited partner exclaimed as he ran over to hug the child who somehow managed to look dirtier than Sunny.  "Can you still out run everyone?"

"They still call me Blur, don't they?" The child joked.  I still had very little idea what was going on.  "And you say I've grown, if you get much older yourself, ya won't be a chicken no more!"

"I ain't been a chicken for a long time!"

"So," the filth-covered boy continued, "if ya ain't a chicken no more, why Sunny call him your john… or is he your pimp?"

Now I was completely lost.  I may speak English, but not slang that seemed to be more Maxwell-ese.  The boarding school I had attended, as a child was all taught in English but that was more textbook than street. Most of the time I needed a translator for Maxwell alone but now that there were others who seemed to speak in code that only they understood, I did not know what they meant by anything. 

"Maxwell, what the hell are they talking about?"

He turned to me but did not make eye contact.  "They think you own me or more precisely, my ass."  

I was speechless.  Somehow my brain did not want to understand what he told me.  I just stood there mutely as he turned back to the gathering crowd of children.  There were about eight of them that I could see.  All were dirty and malnourished and they were staring at us like we were apparitions. 

The children's plethora of questions and my partner's answers were all lost to me as I tried to wrap my brain around the facts presented to me.  Maxwell knew at least some of these kids so that meant that they were from the colonies (since I knew Operation Meteor was his first time to Earth). I also presumed that he was considered a chicken at one time but not now – whatever that meant.  Lastly, the group of children, the gang, had assumed that for some reason I owned the other pilot.  My logic was all pointing in one direction but I still did not want it to be true.  Things like that were tragic tales from twentieth century Western History.

I could not think of that any more so I began assessing my surroundings. My eyes were now adjusted to the dimness and I could make out what was previously hid in the shadows. The ram shackled rooms held no furniture I could see from where we stood near the door. The windows held no glass but were covered with warped slats of wood. In the center of it all was a pile of rags that may have once been blankets but were now ragged, holey, flea ridden scraps. Standing there, it made my skin crawl. I had never seen anything like it, even in the holding cells of Oz bases. At least there, they had clean blankets.

Next, I took in the faces of those children around Maxwell.  All were dirty, tired, and malnourished.  Two small bodies occasionally wracked with coughs that could have been anything from a common cold to tuberculosis.  I silently thanked whoever deemed it necessary that I have inoculations against everything imaginable.  I still wanted to go back out into the sun light, preferably out of the city and back into the countryside.  I wondered if any of these children had even seen a field of wildflowers in their short lives, even the ones who might have been born on Earth. 

I felt something tug my pant leg and jerked back quickly.  I looked down to see dark smudges marring my white pants.  Somehow that angered me because I then felt that I had been tainted by the bleakness of it all. I looked away from my clothes to who it had been that touched me. I glared before realizing that it was nothing more than a tiny waif.  I was shocked – the child looked no older than four! Said child regarded my glare and then kicked me in the shin.  

I yelped in astonishment. That made everyone's heads turn and look at the child and I. Maxwell snickered somehow knowing what had happened. Sunny came over and picked up the little one.  He or she clung to her and glared at me in a tiny pout.  I could not tell if it was a boy or a girl because its rags were non-gender specific and its hair was hanging in matted clumps to its shoulders. 

"Good shot James!" Sunny exclaimed. Maxwell's eyes lit up at the mention of the little boy's name and he moved closer to me to look at the child. 

"Is this really baby James?" He asked.  "Where's Bunny?  Did she come down too?"

"We lost Bunny shortly after you left. Group of soldiers got bored one night and ended up using knives on Bunny, Jack, and Angel. So when I left, I took Baby James with me," Sunny answered solemnly. 

"So Jamie, how do you like being six?"  Maxwell addressed the child.  "Get any good marks lately?"

"He ain't got no pockets! Where's he keep his money?"  The child asked so seriously.  

My partner laughed, "Don't try to pick Wufei's pockets, he'll cut off your hand with his sword!"

"Maxwell, that's Winner's culture that cuts off thieves hands not mine," I argued.  "Besides, how can that child be six, he looks to small to even be out of diapers?"  

"Wu-man, this is what a baby who was born on the streets looks like. He's lucky to have made six years, most don't last more than a few days or weeks.  Hell, it was a miracle that Bunny even carried him when she was fourteen.  I was there when he was born in the rubble of the old church.  We all witnessed him getting a real name, a name from his own mother.  We all vowed to remember his name so that he would never forget who he was."

I looked incredulously at the other pilot.  Calculating quickly, I judged that Maxwell had only been about nine when the child was born. Yet he had witnessed it and perhaps even helped care for the child.  I knew from the limited research I did that Maxwell was an orphan from L2 but I had assumed that he had either been from an orphanage or a foster home.  The other pilots' histories were not what I had originally been interested in, I had just attempted to find out what their training involved.  I was starting to rethink my assessment of Maxwell.

When I did not respond to what he had said, the other pilot turned his attention back to the children.  "So Sunny-baby, you haven't told me how ya'll got off the floating debris that was our colony…"

"I met this guy…" she started sounding uncomfortable.  She did not look at Maxwell but instead her eyes roamed the room. "He was going to take the whole gang to Earth.  He said things were better here, that we could find work, and that we did not have to live in rubble from war.  We believed him and he took us down in a shuttle and then sold us to some slime ball as 'exotic meat' from the colonies.  It seems that us colony rats last longer than Earthborns when it comes to being chickens.  Something about most of us has always been on the streets like this where most Earthborns are runaways.  They're softer or something because after a few months they are completely broken and most die within a year."

"We're a strong lot, Sunny," Maxwell replied. "But you should know better than to let yourself get sold!  Getting pimped is the first step to getting yourself dead!  Didn't Solo teach you nothing?"

"Kid, we all end up dead soon or later. It was either come down here or starve. The war's made things worse back home. There's less transport ships going there and marks are guarding what little they have more than ever.  And we weren't as ballsy or as stupid as you to break into the bases to steal provisions. We'd be shot for sure.  The soldiers shot anything that moved, you know that."

"Course, it still seems that nothing's changes since you were James' age, you're still running from soldiers being shot at!" Blur cut in with a laugh.

"Ah but now, I'm stealing more than food from them, huh, Fei?"

"My name is not Fei, Maxwell. And we weren't stealing from Oz we were acquiring information and sabotaging their computer systems."

"So ya mean you didn't get any food from 'em?  What good is breaking in if you don't at least get to feed yourself?"  Blur retorted. 

"We've got enough to eat that we don't have to steal it from OZ, right Fei?" He asked ignoring my protests about my name. He reached in one of his pockets and pulled out the four ration bars he had brought.  It was our emergency food supply just in case we got hungry during the mission. He handed three of them out to the children. "Here ya go munchkins, knock your selves out."  
I watched riveted as the children tore open the wrappers and began dividing the bars up so that each person got a bite. I almost missed Maxwell handing me the remaining bar. He touched my arm and spoke, "Here, Wu-man, eat up, don't know how long this mission will be or when we'll get to eat next."

I looked at him and how he did not keep any for himself and then back at the children devouring the tasteless nutrition bars like wild animals even though there was barely a bite for each person. I did not want to think of when the last time any of them had had a meal or even if any of them had ever had a real meal at all. I took the offered bar and handed the entire thing to baby James. "I ate this morning before the mission, so I can go a while without food."

"Thanks Mister Woo," the tiny pickpocket gasped as he fumbled with opening the foil wrapper. "Sorry for kickin' ya; didn' know you were a nice man!"

"So, Blur, you scope out any way my friend and I can get outta the city? As fast as ya run, I bet you've been all over," Deathscythe's pilot asked with a feeble attempted to hide his urgency. I do not blame him, it was getting dark out and I could still soldiers searching the streets through the slats on the windows. It would only be a matter of time before they started searching in the buildings. 

"Nah, can't get too far.  Pimps watch us too close," the boy responded sadly. "But there's a shelter down the street that'll help anyone without asking questions."

"He's like Father was," Sunny said bowing her head slightly and hugging the child in her arms tighter.

Maxwell bit his lip and hesitated. "Like Father…"  His voice sounded far away and very young like he was remembering something.  "Ya sure he'll help us? If he tries to turn us in, Sunny, we're dead men."

"From everyone I've talked to, he's the real deal," she replied.  "Wha'd'ja do to get on OZ's shit list so bad? You're part of the war aren't ya?"

"Sunshine, we ARE the war!" 

"Maxwell…" I warned not wanting him to do divulge that we were numbers two and five on OZ's five most wanted list. 

"S'ok Fei, we're family. They ain't turning us in. 'Sides, everyone knows that the rat who stabs his fellow gang members in the back don't live to see mornin'."

"Hn." I was not sure if what he said was true but Maxwell does not trust anyone easily so I relented. 

"So where's this guy? We need to get outta here soon before we get you guys hurt," Maxwell asked. "Anyways, Fei here's about to have a stroke being around this much dirt. He ain't ever been on the streets before."

"He does look like a new runaway fresh from his happy, warm home," Blur teased while trying to poke at me. I grabbed his hand and put his arm in a lock before he could even blink. I did not like his insults or him trying to touch me. I was not trying to hurt him, just trying to warn him.

"Blur, he may look like fresh meat, but Fei's one bad ass," my partner chided. I have been called many things in my life but 'bad ass' had never been one of them – of course most of what I had been called were never that crude either. I let the kid go and glared at him.

"Well, Kid, let's get you outta here and back to the war before your friend here kills Blur barehanded," Sunny interjected. She started towards the door but Maxwell grabbed her arm before she could pass him.

"I'm not going unless you and the rest of the kids go too. I won't let ya'll die out here in the streets to the hand of some drunken john. If this guys really like Father was, then he'll take care of ya and maybe even find ya'll good homes, too."

"I'm not promising anything, Kid, but we'll at least walk down wit ya. Provide some cover so them soldier boys don't see ya."

"Thanks Sunshine, that's all I can ask of ya."

We headed out of the building and into the perpetual shadows surrounding it. The sun was setting causing the city to fall into an eerie red glow.  We slunk from shadow to shadow and in and out of sight. I followed Maxwell closely because I was very inexperienced in this type of movement.  I could see why this usually happy-go-lucky boy was such a fine soldier. He was in constant movement and his sharp eyes missed nothing. He was spotting soldiers and other people when I did even think to look in that direction.  I followed his gestures and quick instructions as well as those of the other children and before I realized it we were in front of a marked building. From the sign on it, it appeared to be a safe house for children – a shelter of some sort. 

Maxwell knocked on the door and then looked to Sunny and the rest of the gang.  "Stay," was all he said.

Sunny nodded reluctantly and looked to the others. "We'll stay, the little ones need more help than Blur and I can give them."

When a middle-aged woman answered the door, Maxwell smiled up at her. "We need to see the man in charge here, right now."

"Come in," she said and led us inside. She tried to argue with my partner that she could give them a place to stay but we would have to wait until the morning to meet with some man she called Father Bruce. 

"Father?" Maxwell whispered again like he was remembering something.  "Like Father Maxwell." 

Behind us, someone asked, "Did you say Father Maxwell?"

We all turned to see a graying man wearing much the same clothes that my fellow pilot always wore.  I could hear my partner gasp.  I was about to ask who this 'Father Maxwell' was and why he had the same name as my partner but the middle-aged woman spoke first.

"Father Bruce, this young ones wanted to speak with you tonight but I told them that you were busy and would see them in the morning after I got them settled in some beds."

The man looked at all the children and then focused on Maxwell.  My partner in turn took a step closer to me but did not take his gaze away from the man. I, once again, was completely at a loss as to what was actually occurring and decided that this time I would just keep my mouth shut and wait. 

"You knew Father Maxwell, son?" 

The other pilot nodded and then looked around at the other children. "My partner and I need to speak with you but the rest of the kids do need those beds first."

"Alright, sir," the man said and told the woman to take the others upstairs. "Come with me to my office and we'll talk, Mister?"

"Duo Max…Maxwell…" he replied quietly while looking down. 

"No way, you can't be that little demon Father Maxwell always wrote about terrorizing his church?"  The man asked in a shocked voice. He looked at him up and down noting his attire. "Well, you're dressed like his orphans but prove you're his Duo."

Maxwell just snickered and turned around obviously showing off his braid. "I take it he told you about this then?"

"Dear boy, I had to read three pages just about how you fought Sister Helen about it. Most of his letters only spoke of you and your antics.  Which was better than before you went to Maxwell's church and the letters were just about the war."

"Too bad that damn war stopped all that. If I could'a…could'a…just…Damn!" Maxwell stammered. "Sorry, I should watch my language, Father."

"I'm used to street kids, Duo," the old man admonished. "Anyways, something tells me that you didn't come all the way from L2 just to meet the old friend of your departed priest."

"Wufei and I need help."

"That's what I'm here for boys, I help kids," he replied warmly.

"No, not that way. I've been off the streets since I was 12 and Fei's never even been on them before today," my partner corrected. "We need help getting outta the city, the sooner the better."

"Why do I get the feeling that this is more serious than running from a pimp?"

"I take it you heard about the terrorist attack earlier today on OZ?" Maxwell asked smirking.

"Yes…" 

"OZ is still looking for us and if we stay here, we put all the kids in danger. I'm not having their blood on my hands like those of the orphans back on L2."

"The massacre wasn't your fault, remember that.  I don't know how you survived or what really happened but don't blame yourself, you were just a child."

"I was never a child, Father, you of all people should understand that."

The elderly priest nodded. After he took a minute to think he said to us, "If you can wait until morning, I think we can get you out of the city.  I have to drive down to another shelter a few hours from here tomorrow and no one will think twice of me taking a few of my kids with me into the country for some fresh air. I'll get you a room for the night and make sure you stay safe until we're out of the city in the morning."

Maxwell ran up to the man and hugged him like his life was dependant upon it. The man hugged back with matching vigor.  When they broke apart he led us upstairs to the dormitories. Upon inquiring with the same woman who had taken the other children, we found that the shelter was actually full for the night. I suggested that we leave and find somewhere else to hide until morning but Father Bruce insisted that he never turns a kid away no matter what. He put us in a back storage room with some blankets and pillows.  They were at least clean and the room was decent enough size to accommodate two people our size. He gave us a couple cups of hot soup and showed us where to put the dishes when we were finished.  He then told us that we were to leave bright and early so to try and get some sleep. 

After eating, we sprawled out on the floor in the dark when we were finally alone. Trying to sleep, but having a million things running through my mind I lay there for quite some time. After a while, I could hear Maxwell shivering under his covers. It was not exactly warm lying on the floor but I assumed that it was better than being outside. 

"Duo, are you cold?"

"L2's climate was much warmer and dryer than here. We really did not even need blankets to sleep on back then. We just curled up together in the rubble of some building or another and slept.  That is when it wasn't your turn to keep watch," he said in a voice that sounded so young but at the same time ancient.

"Well, since you left your other teddy bear in Deathscythe, you can use the original for tonight," I offered knowing he would take the hint that he could crawl up next to me like that night not long ago during the storm. "What else did you do on L2? I have to admit, I don't know much about you. Today has been quite a learning experience."

"Hasn't it?" He quipped as he pulled his blankets over to me and crawled under mine.  I spread his blankets over the two of us and settled down again. He then related to me what his tragic life had been like on the streets, then how he was rescued by Father Maxwell – now his namesake- and then how he out on the streets again. I actually put my arms around him when he explained what he used to do just to get enough money to feed the other kids in his gang. I don't think I could have done what he had to do.  Then he spoke of how he came to be with the Sweepers and ended up as a Gundam pilot. 

He drifted off to a restless sleep shortly after finishing his tail. I did not offer any sympathy verbally; I knew he would not accept it. I just held him as he wove his tale and listened. I fell asleep shortly after that and dreamt of endless fields of wildflowers. When I woke in the morning, I was surprised that I had not had nightmares from the hellish experiences the previous day. 

True to his word, Father Bruce took us out of the city. During the long drive he explained how he had gone to seminary school with Father Maxwell.  I got to hear more about the church the other pilot had called home so long ago and about the people who were there. I finally understood how the smiling God of Death could fight in this war, and why he considered himself Shinigami. 

Owari

~~X~~

A/N: one word: SHIT! That's the longest thing I've ever written in one sitting! (and I cut some stuff out that I didn't think was necessary for the story line!)  Hope you like it!  Thanks to Lindsay Ann for previewing it for me! ^_^ Love ya, chibbi-onna!  Thanks for the encouragement!

A/N2: I borrowed Father Bruce from Covenant House without permission. He's a real person from a real place so I hope I didn't offend anyone by using him. 


End file.
